War Day
by Murphdawg20
Summary: After a few months, I have finally added a new chapter about a nuclear attack on America. Sorry for the delay in adding new chapters.
1. War Day

8:52 AM (EDT)  
  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, I don't own them, but I like to take them out and borrow them every so often. With that in mind, please, please don't sue me.  
  
  
This is the first chapter in a longer story that I plan to write bout a nuclear attack on America. I know this is a VERY depressing subject, but I see a very good, very human story here. Let me know what you think.  
  
  
  
The vans were being positioned at their designated spots in cities across America. The vans were ordinary. They would not stand out. There were five vans. Each van had a driver who had been given a mission. The driver of the van in Los Angeles parked near down town easily enough. He had found a parking garage. The driver in New York had a harder time finding a place to park downtown. Thankfully, though, he had been given false diplomatic credentials. The credentials allowed him to park virtually anywhere without being towed. The drivers of the vans in Seattle and Detroit had virtually no trouble parking. In fact, the driver in Seattle, had time for coffee after parking. Then there was the fifth and final van.... the one that was supposed to be in D.C.  
The driver of the D.C. van was having a really bad morning. Due to some kind of power surge, the alarm on the clock in his Arlington home had not gone off when it was supposed to. The driver woke up nearly two hours late, and got onto the highway in the middle of the morning rush hour. The cars were bumper to bumper as he nervously tried to weave his way through traffic. He needed to be downtown by 9:00. As far as he knew, he was the only man with a mission on this fateful morning. He didn't want to screw up. Damn this D.C. traffic!   
********************************************************************************  
  
8:57 AM (EDT)  
  
Deputy Chief of Staff Joshua Lyman left the West Wing of the White House with his assistant Donna Moss in tow.  
  
"Donna, what time is it?"  
  
"It's 8:57, Josh. Forget about making it on time."  
  
The two boarded an official White House staff car. At once, it began to move. Josh was to meet with Senate Democratic leaders at 9:00. As usual, he was running late. As the car sped toward "The Hill," Josh ignored the notes he had prepared for the meeting and stared out the car window.  
  
"Donna, should I jog more?"  
  
"What are you talking about, Josh?"  
  
"Do you think I should jog more than I do?" Josh asked, looking at joggers along the Mall.  
  
"What you're really asking is if I think you're getting fat," Donna replied.  
  
"Donn.... never mind. Do you have the outlines that I asked you to make co ....."  
  
Suddenly, the sky turned bright red. Josh and Donna felt the shock wave just seconds before they heard the sound. The windows in the car shattered, raining glass down around them. Josh pulled Donna down to the floorboard. The car, as being grabbed and tossed by a giant, was thrown. Josh and Donna tumbled about the car's back seat. The battered vehicle came to a violent rest, slamming against something that Josh could not see.  
  
"Donna?" Josh called as he tried to move his neck. He couldn't see her.  
  
" Donna?" he yelled this time. The noise outside was deafeningly loud that he could barely hear himself. His head hurt so badly. His entire face felt wet. He wanted to find Donna, see if she was OK. He had an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, though. He tried to move again, but his head lolled sideways, and everything went black.  
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The White House Oval Office 8:58 AM (EDT)  
  
"How can you write with that thing, Charlie?"  
  
Charlie Young looked up from the notes he had been taking during the president's phone call to the governor of Nebraska.  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. President?"  
  
"That pen you have. It's a cheep drug store ballpoint. It's the kind that they sell in packs of ten for fifty cents. Buy a fountain pen, boy!"  
  
"Mr. President, I respect you, I admire you, I even voted for you. Despite that, sir, I won't use a fountain pen ever again. That one you gave me a few months ago leaked all over my favorite shirt. The shirt's ruined now."  
  
The president disappeared into his private study. "I have one in here," he yelled back at Charlie. He reappeared back into the room with a fountain pen.  
  
"Charlie," he said, "I've had this pen for over twenty years. It has never, ever, in all my years of writing, leaked even once. I want you to have it on the condition that you let me personally throw that crappy ballpoint away for you."  
  
As he handed Charlie the pen, the president glanced out of the huge windows behind his desk.  
  
"Wha...?"  
  
The windows around the Oval Office started to shatter. They were bulletproof, but they were not made to withstand what was happening today.  
  
"Charlie, get down!" The president said, pulling his young aide to the floor with him. Alarm klaxons began to sound all over the White House and it's grounds. Instantly, Secret Service agents rushed into the Oval Office from almost every available door. Special Agent Ron Butterfield helped the president to his feet. A swarm of agents surrounded Jeb Bartlet and began to rush him from the office.   
  
"Mr. President, are you OK?" Butterfield asked his charge. Behind the president and his detail, two agents nearly dragged Charlie down the hallway.  
  
"What the hell's going on?" Bartlet asked.  
  
"C'mon, sir," Butterfield yelled while trying to move the president along.  
  
The group rushed down a flight of stairs to the basement level of the building. At an intersection of one hallway, Charlie was directed left by his two protectors. Bartlet was directed right. Toward the Situation Room.  
  
The president stood in the Situation Room under the protective gaze of several Secret Service agents. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a red light blinking on one of the phones in the middle of the table. It wasn't just a phone; it was THE phone. His hand visibly shook as he grabbed the receiver.  
  
"This is the president," he managed to choke into the mouthpiece.  
  
"Sir, this is Major General Raymond DiClerico. I'm the senior watch officer at NORAD. We've just registered five nuclear explosions across the United States.  
  
"What? Are you sure?"  
  
"We're double checking now, but yes, sir, there appears to have been a series of explosions in the last several minutes. One of them, near Washington, D.C."  
  
"ICBMs?" The president asked.  
  
"It doesn't appear to have been an ICBM attack, sir," General DiClerico said.   
"NORAD didn't track any incoming ballistic missiles. We don't know how it happened, sir, but there appears to have been some kind of nuclear attack on America. There were two explosions on the Eastern Seaboard, one in Michigan, and two on the West Coast."  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, D.C. 9:07 AM (EDT)  
  
Josh Lyman opened his eyes. He felt like he had been beaten to a bloody pulp. His entire body ached. The worst part though was his head. He felt like he had the worst hangover of all time. He hadn't felt this bad after he had been shot. He was still disoriented, but from what he could see, the car he was in had come to a stop on it's left side. His body was half on the floorboard, half on the seat. Despite all of the noise earlier, it was strangely quiet outside. Then he realized that there was something heavy pushed against his back. Suddenly, he remembered.  
  
"Donna?"  
  
Josh lifted himself up on his elbows and turned around. Donna was on the floorboard wedged between the front and back seats. Her hair was matted to her head with blood. Her legs were twisted in a grotesque way. At first Josh was sure she was dead, and let out a sob of despair. He noticed her shallow breathing. She was alive. Thank God!  
  
"What about the driver?" he thought.   
  
The thought finally occurred to Josh that the driver probably needed help as well. With some effort, he managed to crawl up to the front of the vehicle. It was there that he saw the most horrible site he had ever witnessed. The driver was hanging halfway out of the broken front windshield. The driver's face was missing. All that was left of it was a bloody mass. Josh was so shocked he began to scream. Then, a wave of nausea hit him and he began to retch.  
  
"Where are the ambulances?" he wondered.   
  
He looked at his watch to see what time it was, but the face was shattered. He crawled back into the back to check on Donna again. She was still unconscious, but breathing. Why the hell wasn't anyone there to help them yet? He crawled out the shattered back window. If help wouldn't come, he'd find help. Donna needed a doctor, and he probably did too.   
The scene on the street was yet another horrifying shock to Joshua Lyman. He had been under the impression that their car had been involved in some kind of terrible accident. However, standing on the street, he could see that something much worse had happened. There was debris and overturned vehicles everywhere. The city was strangely quiet. There seemed to be no activity anywhere. Then he saw the bodies. Everywhere he looked, bodies littered Pennsylvania Avenue. The joggers along the Mall were either gone or lying on the ground unmoving. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the Washington Monument was a lot shorter than it once was.   
  
"Shit, it collapsed," he finally realized.  
  
"Buddy, are you OK?"  
  
The voice startled Josh. He turned when the hand fell onto his shoulder.   
  
"Are ya' OK? The man asked again. He looked like an ordinary businessman to Josh. But he was covered in something. Dust? Plaster? Besides that and a few cuts, though, the man looked to be fine.  
  
"I'm fine, I think," Josh said, finally. "My friend, though. My friend in that car over there needs help." Josh indicated the car that he had come from.  
  
"Yeah, a lot of us need help," the man replied. The man pointed to his left leg, and Josh saw a large shard of what looked like glass sticking out of it.  
  
"I was in my office, when the windows blew out. I don't know how I lived, but this piece of glass slashed right through my leg. I didn't realize it until I started walking. It hurts like hell, but I'm afraid to pull it out. Do you have any idea what the hell happened out here?"  
  
"No," Josh said. "Maybe a some kind of bomb or som..." the man was pointing at something. Josh followed the man's finger until he saw what he what the guy was gesturing at. They stared skyward as the remnants of a mushroom cloud slowly drifted in the air. 


	2. War Day Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I only take them out of the garage every now and then for a spin. With that in mind, please don't sue me.  
  
  
  
  
Los Angeles, California 5:43 AM (Pacific Daylight Time)  
  
  
Jeff Locke was in the middle of his routine security patrol. He had moved to Los Angeles three years ago to try his hand at acting. After all this time, he was still a nobody. He had a fairly decent job as a security guard (he owed the job to the fact that he was an ex-marine). It didn't pay too much, but at least the work was easy. He was security for a parking garage owned by one of the big companies in town. Most mornings, he just chilled out in his booth listening to the radio and reading the paper.  
  
He saw the van parked on the fourth level. There was someone who parked here in the garage that drove an identical van, so he didn't think much of it. He just figured some poor bastard was in early trying to impress the boss. On closer inspection, he noticed that the van didn't have the authorization tag hanging from it's inside mirror. Everyone authorized to park here needed a tag. The poor guy probably taken the tag down and had just forgotten to hang it back up, but Jeff had orders to have all vehicles without a tag towed. Jeff remembered the last time he let an unauthorized vehicle "slide." His supervisor had chewed him out. Jeff decided that he would rather do without another tongue- lashing. He dialed the towing service and waited for an answer.  
  
"Hal? It's Jeff. Yeah, how are ya buddy? Great, great. Listen, I have a black Ford van up here without a tag that I need to have hauled off. It's parked up here on the fourth level. Let me give you the plate number."  
  
Hal Sparks hung up the phone and grimaced. He was hoping that he wouldn't get a call this early. He was the only person on duty at the moment, which meant that he would have to tow the van away. He grabbed the clipboard on which he had written the license number of the van in question. "Great," he thought. "A drive across town just as the morning rush hour was about to get started. As he climbed into the cab of his tow truck, he saw the sky light up and felt the ground begin to shake. "What the hell kind of earthquake is this?" he asked himself.  
  
Georgetown University 8:59 AM (EDT)  
  
Zoey Bartlet was waiting for her Economics class to begin. She had scheduled an intro level economics course this semester because it was the field her father had received his Ph.D. in. As the semester rolled on, though, she began to hate the class more and more. It wasn't that the material was difficult (especially not for a brilliant student such as her), but it so boring. Zoey stared out of the window as the woman sitting next to her tried to get her attention.  
  
As Zoey stared out the window at the sprawling campus, the sky turned bright red. The floor shook and the windows shattered. She barely noticed the Secret Service agents rush into her classroom. She was literally carried outside to a waiting car. The car sped across campus to where a Marine helicopter was parked. She and her Secret Service detail ran onboard. Before they had a chance to strap in, the chopper rocketed into the air.  
  
  
White House bomb shelter 9:30 AM (EDT)  
  
News of the attack was slow in getting out. The reason for this was the fact that the main headquarters' of the "Big Three" networks were located in Manhattan, which was now an inferno.  
  
CNN, being headquartered in Atlanta, was the first to run with the breaking news. A cameraman at the network's Washington bureau, was out on the roof of the Washington bureau headquarters providing live coverage of the destruction in the area.  
  
Ina bomb shelter under the West Wing of the White House, Sam Seaborn was among those watching the coverage on a small television. The White House staffers were cramped in the small room that probably dated back to the beginning of the Cold War.  
  
As they watched in disbelief the footage of smoke billowing over the Potomac River. "How could this happen?" asked Communications Director Toby Zeigler. "The most powerful country on the planet, and we can't even protect our own citizens!"  
  
Charlie Young sat on the floor hanging his head. "My sister," he said to no one in particular. "My sister was at school. God, I hope she's all right." He was on the verge of tears. Since their mother had been murdered, he had been the only parent that his sister had.  
  
Sam came over to Charlie and sat down next to him. "Don't worry, Charlie," he said. From the footage, it looks like the bomb went off outside of the city. I'm sure your sister's fine. The bomb couldn't have been that big, after all the White House is still standing."  
  
"As far as we know," Charlie retorted.  
  
Sam was trying to comfort his friend, but in a way he was also trying to comfort himself. How many friends had he lost today? He had friends all over Washington and Manhattan. Good friends. People he had known since college and law school. People with wives, husbands, and children. It was too much to bear. Toby's question was a valid one. "How could this happen to the most powerful country on the planet?"  
  
Sam felt people begin to stir. He looked up to see Chief of Staff Leo McGarry entering. The room collectively pleaded for any new news on the situation. Overwhelmed, Leo held up his hand in a plea for silence.  
  
If you've all been watching TV, then you probably know as much as we know right now. Five nuclear devices have exploded across the country. There was one in Manhattan, one in Detroit, one in Los Angeles, one in Seattle and one here in Washington. Right now it seems to have been a terrorist attack. For some reason, the bomb here in D.C. went off in Arlington rather than here in the city. If it had gone off in the city..."  
  
"Then we wouldn't be here, "Toby finished.  
  
Leo nodded grimly. Toby, Sam: the president's going to be addressing the nation in about an hour. We're saying, 'Our country will not be the victim of cowardly terrorists. We're going to find who did this and make them sorry.' Don't go into much depth, there'll probably be another address tonight where we can go into more detail."  
  
"What about the press?" The question came from Press Secretary C.J. Cregg. She knew better than anyone else that the press would be hungry for any morsel that the White House Press Office could feed them.  
  
"We'll do the press later today. When we know more. We've also been told that the Secret Service wants to evacuate the White House. There's structural damage to the building, and we don't know if the terrorists have something else planned.  
  
  
  
  
  
Pennsylvania Avenue 9:30 (EDT)  
  
  
Emergency vehicles were finally in the area. Nearly all vehicles within the blast area had been ruined if not totally destroyed, and that included emergency service vehicles. Because of this, fire crews, police, and rescue units from surrounding towns had to be dispatched to the affected areas. Their progress was slowed even further by the enormous amount of debris and fires that littered the area.  
  
Donna Moss didn't know that, though. As she opened her eyes, she had no idea what was going on. All she could remember was the dream she'd had (it had to have been a dream) about being in a car accident with Josh. Her eyes tried to focus on something. She finally realized that it was Josh. Why was he with her?  
  
"Donna?"  
  
"Josh? What are you doing here with me?  
  
"Donna, you're hurt. Don't panic. I'm sure there's help on the way.  
  
"What do you mean? What happened?  
  
"A bomb went off. Our car wrecked."  
  
"A bomb in the car?" Donna was tired. She needed to go back to sleep, but Josh kept talking.  
  
"No, a bomb...Donna? Donna, listen. You need to stay awake for me. OK? You're going to be fine, but you need to stay awake for me..."  
  
As Donna lost consciousness again, Josh knew that he had to get her to a hospital. He turned to the guy with the glass in his leg. "What's your name?" Josh asked.  
  
"Peter Burke," the man said offering his hand to Josh.  
  
"Josh. Lyman. Josh Lyman. Peter, I know it probably hurts for you to walk, but if we don't get my friend to a hospital soon, I'm afraid that she'll die. Can you help me carry her?"  
  
Peter had seen the condition of Donna's head wound. He knew that Josh was right. "Of course," he answered.  
********************************************************************************  
  
White House South Lawn 9:50 AM (EDT)  
  
The helicopters began to touch down on the lawn. First was Marine One. Secret Service agents hustled aboard the president and his party. As soon as Marine One was airborne and on its way, two large Chinook transport choppers touched down to ferry away the rest of the White House occupants.   
  
As Sam entered the helicopter, he mentally played back the president's departure. Leo had been with the president, as had the national security advisor and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Where was Josh, though? He hadn't been in the bunker, so Sam had just assumed that he had been with the president and Leo in the Situation Room. After all, Josh was the deputy chief of staff. He would have been with the president. Despite that, though, Sam hadn't seen him board Marine One with everyone else. He hadn't seen Donna either. Where could they be?  
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Andrews Air Force Base 10:05 AM (EDT)  
  
As soon as Marine One was on the ground, President Bartlet was nearly dragged out by his Secret Service detail. They rushed him and his party across the tarmac to a fleet of waiting Suburbans. The small motorcade sped across the compound to a secure site on the base.  
  
Shortly after, the two Chinook transports touched down. The passengers deplaned and were herded onto two waiting busses (one for the staff and one for the press corps). The two busses sped off to two different areas of the base.  
  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
  
Andrews Air Force Base 10:27 AM (EDT)  
  
President Josiah Bartlet looked over the text of his speech as makeup was applied to his face. The makeup person left the room quietly. He and his daughter spoke in a corner of the room that they were in. The First Lady had been at a medical conference in Boston when the bombs went off; She was now in the air, on her way back to Andrews Air Force Base.   
"Dad, what happens now?" Zoey asked.  
  
"After I make my speech," the president said, "I'll be taken away on a plane that's used by the president in cases like this. You'll stay here with the Secret Service until your mom gets back. Then, you'll both get on Air Force One."  
  
Although Zoey didn't like the idea of her family being apart at a time like this, she was smart enough to realize that extra precautions had to be taken in times like this. Of course her father would be in a more secure plane, a less recognizable plane. He WAS, after all, the President of the United States, and his country was at war.  
  
"Baby," Bartlet addressed his daughter, "it's time for my speech. I promise, I won't leave without saying goodbye to you, though." Bartlet kissed his daughter and was shepherded into another room by Leo.  
  
  
The cameraperson pointed at the president, and Jed Bartlet began to speak.  
  
"My fellow, citizens. It is with a heavy heart that I speak with you today. An hour and a half ago, our country suffered a massive attack. This attack is unlike any other our nation has ever suffered. For the first time, weapons of mass destruction were used against our citizens. Although, it still very soon after the attacks, we have reason to believe that this was an act of terrorism against our country.  
  
"No matter who is ultimately deemed responsible, make no mistake: these people will pay the ultimate price. For those who wish to do harm to the United States, I say this: Get ready, because your day of reckoning will come. America has a long memory, and we will find you no matter how long it takes. Let the word go forth that the United States will no longer be a victim of terrorism. If terrorists wish to be at war with the United States, then the war begins now. Thank you. God bless you, and God bless America.  
  
As the red light blinked off, the president turned to Leo McGarry. "All right, let's go." 


	3. Show me a hero and I'll write you a trag...

Disclaimer: These characters are NOT mine, and no matter what, they never will be.  
  
"Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy"-F. Scott Fitzgerald  
  
10:30 AM(EDT)  
  
Andrews Air Force Base  
  
The 747 sat on the tarmac with two engines already running. The National Emergency Airborne Command Post(known as NEACP, or "Kneecap"), was supposed to be used by the president in times of national crisis. The belief was that mobility was the greatest asset to the president during a time of crisis.  
  
Just minutes after his short address to the nation, a black Suburban screeched to a stop on the tarmac. The president and Leo McGarry climbed aboard Kneecap. Before they had a chance to fasten their seatbelts, Kneecap was rolling.  
  
The president sat at a conference table. Surrounding him were his chief of staff, national security advisor, secretaries of state and defense, and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  
  
Chairman Fitzwallace, or "Fitz" as he was called, didn't bother with formalities. "Mr. President, were getting reports of suspicious packages in Houston, San Francisco, and Norfolk, Virginia."  
  
"Have the bomb squads been called out?" the president asked.  
  
"There is a team already on the scene in Houston, teams are on the way in San Francisco and Norfolk. We also just got a flash from NSA. A suicide bomber just blew himself up at a Tel Aviv high school. There's no estimate on the number of casualties yet.  
  
Bartlet nodded soberly at the additional tragedy. Then he spoke up. "How the hell did this happen? With the money we pump into the intelligence community, how the HELL did terrorists sneak five nuclear weapons into our country?"  
  
The director of the CIA was on the speaker phone from a secure location outside of Langley, Virginia.  
  
"Mr. President," the director said, "I don't know what to say, sir."  
  
The president rubbed his face. It was still early in the day, but he was already exhausted. The CIA director was about to say something else, but the president cut him off.  
  
" I don't think any of us know what to say this morning."  
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10:30 AM(EDT)  
  
Capitol Hill  
  
Luckily, Josh and Peter didn't have to walk very far to find help for Donna. It was Peter who was first to notice the activity at the Capitol building. Paramedics were milling around the area. The Capitol, had been damaged by the explosion. The centerpiece of Washington, the Capitol dome, was gone. The pressure wave and high winds created by the bomb's detonation had caused the dome to collapse down into the building. The result was a gaping hole in the middle of the building's roof.  
  
  
As they approached a triage line near the building, Josh and Peter heard a young man in an EMT uniform shouting orders to another of his brethren. "Get me more morphine, and for God's sake, keep an eye on that guy with the head wound!" The man saw Josh and Peter carrying Donna.  
  
"Put her down, and let me look at her." He saw Peter's leg injury and called someone else over to tend to it.  
  
Josh was starting to babble. "We were in a car on Pennsylvania Avenue. The car flipped, and the driver was killed. She's been out almost the entire time, but she woke up once for a few seconds."  
  
The EMT nodded as he stuck a syringe into Donna's arm, pushing the plunger down. He then turned his head toward another medic. "Get this woman on an ambulance! She needs to get to a hospital, NOW!"  
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10:45 AM (EDT)  
  
Andrews Air Force Base  
  
Representatives of the press stood in a cluster in the empty hanger. Just hours before, they had been in the White House preparing for the morning briefing. The explosion in Arlington had caused the huge windows in the press room of the West Wing to implode. Many reporters nursed wounds caused by the falling glass.  
  
As C.J. Cregg entered the hanger, everyone forgot about their injuries and began to shout questions that echoed in the large, empty room. C.J. stood behind a cluster of microphones to begin the hastily planned press conference.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a terrible, trying morning for all of us. I know you all have questions, and I'll try to answer as many as possible."  
  
As one, the press corps shouted to be recognized.  
  
"Chuck," C.J. said pointing to a reporter from The Chicago Sun-Times.  
  
"C.J," Chuck asked, "where are the president and vice president at this moment?"  
  
"Both President Bartlet and Vice President Hoynes are in the air at the moment. Vice President Hoynes and his family were in Dallas attending a friend's funeral, when they were taken back to Air Force Two. The president, National Security Advisor McNally, Chairman Fitzwallace of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Defense Secretary McCutchen, Secretary of State Webster boarded the National Emergency Airborne Command Post, known as Kneecap, shortly after the president's address to the nation. Danny?"  
  
"In his address, the president said that this was a terrorist attack. How does he know?"  
  
"According to NORAD, no ballistic missiles were tracked. Judging from that and the information that the explosions were of a relatively low yield compared to most nuclear warheads, the National Security Council and the president determined that this was probably a coordinated terrorist attack. Obviously, we'll know more as new information is obtained. Jill?"  
  
"C.J, what emergency response procedures are under way right now?"  
  
"First, the president has declared martial law in all of the affected cities. National Guard personnel are responding to the areas as we speak.  
"The Navy is, at this hour, deploying carriers and destroyers along the East and West coasts, as well."  
  
"Which ships?" someone asked, loudly.  
  
"I don't have that, I'll have to get back to you. Obviously, the first priority is to put out the fires near the blast sites, and rescuing as many injured people as possible. Military officials have been ordered to assist in that, as well.  
  
"The president has ordered all commercial airports closed until further notice and all commercial air traffic grounded. Planes in the air have been ordered to land immediately. All inbound air traffic from overseas has been rerouted to Canada. Bob?"  
  
"Is the president's family safe?"  
  
"Mrs. Bartlet was in Boston for a conference. She will arrive back, shortly. At that time, she and the president's youngest daughter will be taken to a secure location."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"I can't say. The president's older daughters have also been taken to an undisclosed, secure location. Claire?"  
  
"The explosion in Arlington is said to be near the Pentagon. To what extent, if any is the Pentagon damaged?"  
  
"The Pentagon is a heavily reenforced building, but I've been told that the Southern side of the building has suffered considerable damage. Allison?"  
************************************************************************  
8:00 AM (PDT)  
  
Los Angeles, Ca.  
  
"....this most terrible of days. In her press conference moments earlier, White House Press Secretary C.J. Cregg announced that the president has halted all air travel in the U.S. Only military aircraft are allowed in the air at this time. Both President Bartlet and Vice President Hoynes are in the air at this time, however."  
  
Hal Sparks began to tune out the constant chatter of the CNN reporter. He had heard it all earlier. When the anchors don't have enough news to report, they begin to repeat themselves. It didn't matter. Soon, he would be too drunk to care what was going on the outside world. He laughed at that thought as he grabbed another Paps Blue Ribbon from the break room 'fridge.   
  
He had gone outside after all of the initial commotion subsided. He watched the mushroom cloud rise from the downtown area. It had taken him several minutes to realize that the cluster of buildings that had complimented on the skyline were gone. He didn't know why this was happening, or how he had survived, but he didn't want to be sober when the next volley of missiles came. He turned the sound up on the television when he heard something important.  
  
"...small yield nuclear devices. The kind that can be stored in vans or trucks, and can be delivered to certain targets by terrorists."  
  
"Vans or trucks?" Sparks thought. Earlier, CNN had reported the location of Ground Zero in L.A. It was awfully close to the parking garage that Sparks had been headed to when the bomb exploded. At the time, all he could do was think about his friend at the parking garage who was probably dead.  
  
"Could the van I was supposed to tow have had the bomb in it?" Sparks knew it was probably farfetched, but the news anchors on television were saying over and over that anyone with any information that could be useful to the FBI should call. He copied down the 1-800 number at the bottom of the screen. He dialed, and was soon connected with a woman identifying herself as Agent Hopkins.  
  
"Ma'am, you're going to think this is crazy, but....." 


	4. Chapter 4

Aboard KNEECAP 3:50PM EDT  
  
Josiah Bartlet listened to the under secretary of Health and Human Services drone on over the speaker phone.  
  
"Next, Mr. President, is the sanitary disposal of human remains. We're asking that you approve the emergency Executive Order that we're faxing to you. Basically, it orders the omission of usual necessities like embalming and use of caskets for bodies recovered in the affected areas. It's summer, so we want to be able have the bodies recovered and interred as soon as possible before they pose a health risk." The under secretary paused for a moment. "But, we also want to give families the opportunity to identify loved ones. After a reasonable time to allow for I. D, the EO you sign will call for the victims to be buried in trenches. The bodies will be placed..," she stopped to confer with an assistant while the president and those assembled around him waited." The bodies will be placed head to toe in the trenches, Mr. President." The president shook his head slowly. "Mass graves," he said to no one in particular. So many American citizens, the people he was supposed to protect, would go unidentified. None would have the dignity of a proper funeral or burial.  
  
Walter Reed Army Medical Center 4:00 PM EDT  
  
The hospital was an absolute madhouse. Walter Reed, normally a military hospital, was the closest hospital to the blast site that was unharmed. It was accepting casualties from all over the area. Josh had never seen anything like it before. Doctors, nurses and orderlies ran through hallways packed with screaming, writhing victims. People screamed for help, for family members, for God. Some people even pleaded for death to take them. The hospital was filled to capacity, and doctors were forced to tend to patients that were lying out in the hallway. What worried Josh, though; was the fact that he hadn't heard any news on Donna's condition. She had been brought in hours before, and doctors were still tending to her somewhere. Just then, an exhausted looking young woman walked up to Josh.  
  
"You were the one who came in with the woman, right? Ms. Moss"  
  
"Yeah, how is she?"  
  
The doctor hesitated, almost as if she were trying to think of a plausible lie. "She's not well, sir. She has massive internal injuries. There's really nothing we can do to save her."  
  
Josh felt numb. It seemed to take all of the energy he could muster to open his mouth and respond to what the doctor had just said. "I.I don't accept that."  
  
"I understand how you feel." "There has to be SOMETHING you can do; operations.or.something. Whatever she needs, for God's sake do it."  
  
"I'm sorry sir. It's only a matter of time. She's awake if you want to see her."  
  
Josh followed the doctor to a room. Donna was lying on one of the beds. The other had a body covered with a sheet. Two orderlies were carrying it out as Josh sat next to Donna.  
  
Donna smiled up at him. "Hi, Josh."  
  
Josh gave her a hug. "How are you Donna?"  
  
"I feel horrible. What happened to our car?"  
  
"A bomb exploded. It was terrorists, or something. There are lots of people dead."  
  
"Oh my God. I can't believe!"  
  
They talked for a few minutes. Finally, Donna asked Josh the question he was dreading.  
  
"Josh, am I going to be all right?"  
  
"Of course, you are. You're going be fine."  
  
"You're lying. I can tell. You don't think I know when you're lying, but I can."  
  
All Josh could do was look down at his shoes.  
  
"Tell me the truth, Josh. What's wrong with me?"  
  
"They told me that there's nothing they could do for you." Josh voice cracked while he explained what was wrong.  
  
"Josh?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I love you. I wish now that I had told you sooner."  
  
"I love you too, Donna. I always have.  
  
Josh grabbed her hand, and they sat together talking and waiting for the inevitable  
  
  
  
Philadelphia 6:30 PM EDT  
  
NEACP touched down at the Philadelphia International Airport. The Philly National Guard got word that the president would be there, and the airport looked like an armed camp by the time the president's plane rolled to a stop. Soldiers manning a hastily assembled machine gun nest looked ready to kill anyone that look at them the wrong way. Bartlet and his party were hustled down to a waiting helicopter. Within seconds, the Blackhawk was cutting through the air. No one spoke during the short hop, and the president was grateful for the silence. He stared out or a window, watching the city streak by below him. He could also see other, armed helicopters flanking his. The Blackhawk landed at a secret facility in the Pennsylvania countryside that had been built in the "bad old days" of the Cold War. The president and Leo alighted from the chopper and were hustled into a small room with a conference table. For the first time in hours, the president was reunited with his West Wing staff. Guys, are you all right?" was all he asked as he made his way around the room hugging his friends. C.J, Sam, Toby, and Charlie all assured the president that they were fine.  
  
"Where's Josh?" the president asked.  
  
"I thought he was on the plane with you," Sam said.  
  
"Leo, was Josh on the plane?"  
  
"No, Sir."  
  
"You don't think he." the president began to ask, but then trailed off. He didn't really want to ask. He didn't want to know.  
  
  
  
Walter Red Army Medical Center 6:30 PM EDT  
  
Josh sat next to Donna holding her hand. Her doctor had moved on to other patients. She had moved on to patients that she could save. Donna was barely conscious, but she was still talking. "I can't die, you know." She said to Josh.  
  
"I know, Donna."  
  
"I need to take care of you. You can't do anything for yourself. You'll be helpless if I'm not there to take care of you. You don't even know how to use your computer."  
  
"I know. I need you, Donna. That's why I want you to stay with me. Fight, Donna. Live for me." She was unconscious again. Her breathing had become more and more labored. Josh sat there, holding her hand. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want her to die alone. He thought of all the missed opportunity. He loved Donna, and she had apparently loved him. Why hadn't he told her before today? He had told his mother, Sam, even his psychiatrist. He had never told the person that mattered, though. Not until it was too late. After an hour that seemed like days, Donna stopped breathing. Josh felt for a pulse and found nothing. She looked so peaceful, almost as if she were only sleeping. He kissed her on the forehead, covered her with his jacket, and cried for the woman that he loved. 


End file.
